


In the Darkness, Waiting

by MarvelCinematicUnicorn



Series: Behind Stars and Under Hills [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lucifer's Cage, Post-Episode: s06e11 The God Complex, Tags Are Hard, i think
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:59:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelCinematicUnicorn/pseuds/MarvelCinematicUnicorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hundreds of years have passed since Adam Milligan first fell into the Cage, and he's pretty much given up all hope of rescue. Until, one day, a blue box materialises in front of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can't summarise. At all. Now that I've stated that, this is my first fanfiction on here, so I'd really appreciate any constructive criticism (or, you know, any comments at all). It's a SuperWho, so, yeah. Obviously I own nothing, not even the computer I'm typing on (it's a family PC). The story is AU for Doctor Who after the God Complex, since I'm still emotionally compromised over The Angels Take Manhattan, but I needed the Doctor to be travelling alone. Ok, that's about it. You can read the story now.

Prologue

As he slowly regained consciousness, Adam felt his bones knit together and snap back into position, his skin healing over and becoming whole. Awareness gradually bled through, and he drew a long, shuddering breath through lungs that were no longer punctured by ribs, letting a broken sob escape him. It echoed throughout the endless expanse of space around him, his own voice the only sound for miles. He winced as he moved, aggravating the tenderness of recently healed bones. His injuries always hurt – they were excruciating to the extreme. However, as Adam had soon found out, in the Cage, he was unable to die, the wounds inflicted upon him always repairing, not even allowing Adam the luxury of the oblivion that he knew death would bring him.

Opening his eyes cautiously, he looked around. The barren landscape of the Cage stretched out as far as he could see, and he let out a sigh of relief as he looked into the distance and caught sight of the vivid flashes of light that always appeared when Michael and Lucifer were fighting. His eyes slipped shut, but despite this, the intense blades of light scorched themselves onto his retinas. Even after his eyes had closed, luminous green shapes still hovered in his vision for a few minutes. Adam allowed himself a moment to smile as he savoured this temporary reprieve; while Michael and Lucifer were occupied with fighting each other, he could be sure that they were not going to turn their attention to him.

His smile devolved into a pained grimace and he wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to conserve as much heat as possible – and wasn’t that something, feeling cold in Hell, a place notorious the world round for its fiery pits? But the fiery pits in question were situated on the higher levels of Hell, and the Cage was far away from there, down where no heat could permeate it. As a consequence, it was always bitterly cold, and Adam had no body heat to warm him, reduced as he was to skin and bones. When Sam had still been with him, they had huddled together for warmth and for comfort, a reminder that someone else was there, a reassurance that they were not alone.

Except, Adam _was_ alone now. Sam wasn’t there anymore. Sam had been saved, and Adam had been forgotten. A tear dripped from Adam’s eyes as he was hit by a wave of intense loneliness and abandonment caused by Sam’s abrupt departure. 

Adam didn’t really blame Sam for no longer being there– after all, he had been rescued, it wasn’t like he had found a way out on his own and just left Adam there – but he couldn’t help recalling the furious snarl that had warped Lucifer’s face when he had first discovered that his vessel was gone, and the way that it had morphed into a cruel smirk as he took out his anger at Sam’s loss on Adam. Before, Adam had just had to deal with Michael’s rage at being trapped, and that had been agonising enough, but Lucifer took this torment to a whole new level. He was sadistic and merciless, and between his torments and Michael’s, Adam’s strength had crumpled and shattered. In the rare, brief periods when Adam was left alone, he would no longer put on a brave face and try to stay strong; instead, he would curl up and cry. After all, he no longer had Sam there; there was no reason for him to keep pretending to cope.

Maybe it was a good thing that Sam was gone; at least it meant that he was no longer trying to kid himself into believing that everything was ok, and that things could only get better. They wouldn’t – it wasn’t like he had anyone who cared about him. His mother was dead, and the Winchesters had made it clear that they didn’t care about him. Sam was out and he wasn’t; what other proof did he need?

It was kind of ironic actually; amongst the lies that Zachariah had told him in order to manipulate Adam into agreeing to act as Michael’s vessel, there had been a kernel of truth. He had said that the Winchesters only cared about themselves, and while Adam knew that bit had been mostly false (it was obvious that they did care about other people, or else they wouldn’t do what they did), once the whole apocalypse thing had, presumably, ended, and Sam was out, they’d just left him to rot in the Cage. He didn’t blame them for that, though – they barely knew him, and he himself had said that they weren’t family. It made sense that they would care about each other more than him.

Besides the Winchesters, there wasn’t anyone left that might miss him, no one that would even try to get him out. He was going to be stuck in the Cage for the rest of eternity, and once he’d accepted that, he found it a lot easier to cope – at least he no longer felt the burning ache of disappointment when yet another day, week, or year passed with no rescue.

A strange sound filled the air, a grating, thrumming noise that dragged Adam out of the shelter of his own mind. His eyes snapped open, and he watched in shock as a bright light expanded to fill his vision. As it grew ever brighter, he found himself squinting in order to prevent himself from being blinded, and yet, inexplicably, he was unable to look away. The noise grew louder, until with a final screech, it petered out. The light dissipated enough for Adam to fully open his eyes, and he blinked a few times in astonishment as a blue box materialised in front of him.


	2. Chapter One

The _hum_ and _whirr_ of engines reverberated throughout the large, echoing room, but its sole occupant was deaf to it. He leant heavily on the console, oblivious to everything but the thoughts running through his head.

The Doctor stared listlessly ahead, mind filled with images of Amy and Rory. He imagined them starting their lives again, in that new house, and with that new car (“That’s my favourite car. How did you know that was my favourite car?”). A lump expanded in his throat and he gulped, unsuccessfully trying to force it back down.

Yes, they were starting their lives again. But they were starting them without him. Oh, he knew it was selfish of him to miss them, but he did. And, ok, he was lonely, but that didn’t mean he had the right to take over their lives. And that was what had happened; ever since he’d first crashed into little Amelia Pond’s garden, her life had revolved around him. And when he’d dropped back into her life, all those years later, she’d still helped him. And when he’d asked her to join him, although he’d left her behind yet again, she’d still followed him, despite the fact that she was due to get married in the morning. And then Rory had followed her.

From then, the end had been inevitable, and it had taken him so long to see it. In fact, it had taken an alien prison ship masquerading as a hotel for him to accept the truth. It was only once he’d seen Amelia, on the suitcase, waiting for the magic man, her ‘Raggedy Doctor’, to come and whisk her away, that he truly understand the full effect that he had had on her. Never mind that it was just a projection, it had been in Amy’s room, which meant that it was an accurate representation of how she felt towards him. She, and Rory by extension, had been following him since they were little kids.

And they would have kept following him until he got them killed. He couldn’t allow that to happen. It was far better for him to give them up now than to end up standing by their graves.

He sighed, pivoting on one foot (Amy had always laughed when he did that) and left the room. He walked down the corridor slowly, retracing the steps that he had taken so many times – that they had walked so many times. As he did, the roundels that adorned the walls pulsated, glowing softly in sympathy with his mood. Good old reliable TARDIS. After everything that they’d gone through, she was still always there for him.

_It's always you and her, isn't it? Long after the rest of us have gone._ The Doctor shook his head almost desperately, trying to dispel Amy’s voice from his subconscious. Admittedly, he succeeded, although it was less to do with him shaking his head, and more to do with the cloister bell, which chose that moment to chime loudly.

His head whipped up at the noise, and he spun around abruptly, dashing back up to the console room and skidding to the floor as the TARDIS rocked violently. He grabbed at a random handle (he couldn’t remember for the life of him what that particular handle was for) and hoisted himself back to his feet, clutching tightly as the room swung to the left. To give his TARDIS credit, she did right herself incredibly quickly, but the cloister bell was getting a bit annoying, especially since he was already in the console room. It was only when the cloister bell cut off and the console glowed an offended blue did he realise he had spoken that bit aloud.

He patted the console quickly in apology, which admittedly was a bit brusque, but at least the blue faded back to its regular pigment, so he knew that she understood. He smiled briefly, before ending up flat on his back as the shaking began again. His head slammed against the underside of the console, and he let out a quiet moan of pain, which was drowned out by the TARDIS wheezing to a stop, signifying that she’d landed.

The Doctor pushed himself to his feet, rubbing at his head absentmindedly as he pulled the screen towards him, in order to see where they had landed. He glanced at it and then looked again properly, frowning. Those coordinates...

“This isn’t possible. These coordinates can’t exist. We can’t have landed – there’s nothing for us to have landed in!” The Doctor’s exclamation of indignation went unheeded, save a slight hum from the TARDIS, which sounded rather exasperated. And yes, apparently hums could sound exasperated now.

“This can’t be right. We can’t have landed, except, well, we have.” Another hum was emitted, slightly higher in pitch. “Yes, you’re right. I should go and check, only... Ok, ok, fine.” As the Doctor crossed to the door, he found himself wondering how exactly he had been convinced to go out just by a series of low noises.

But those thoughts were quickly pushed aside as he actually got to the door. One hand on the handle, he paused, contemplative. “Now, what could you _possibly_ be? What could possibly be out there in space that cannot, by the laws of the universe, exist?” 

_Well, there’s only one way to find out_ , he thought, and he pulled open the door, stepping outside.

And stopped still, staring.

In front of him, a figure stared back, blue eyes a splash of colour in an otherwise nearly colourless (and filthy) face. The Doctor frowned, taking in the boy’s appearance. Painfully thin, the boy looked like a survivor of some natural disaster, and the ragged clothes (covered in dirt and worrying quantities of blood varying in freshness) lent credence to that idea.

“Well,” the Doctor murmured, “of all things that I might have expected to find here, this certainly wasn’t it.”

The boy’s head lifted a fraction more, and he uncurled slightly from where he lay huddled. The look of disbelief on his face matched the Doctor’s own feeling, although the Time Lord was mostly certain that he, unlike the boy, wasn’t projecting it to the world.

“Who’re you?” The voice was hoarse and broken, but the Doctor was unsure whether it was due to a simple lack of use or to... other causes. Either way, the almost inaudible mumble made his heart clench.

And it would have been impolite not to answer. “I’m the Doctor,” he said quietly, hoping to reassure the boy in front of him. “And you are?”

The boy eyed him warily for a few moments. “Adam Milligan.”

The Doctor tried to smile reassuringly, although he wasn’t sure whether he had pulled it off. “So, Adam, would you mind telling me where this is?” On second thoughts, he probably should have been a bit less blunt, but then again, that had never been his strong point.

The wary look on the boy’s face intensified, but now it was mixed with confusion. “You really don’t know?”

“Well, no. I mean, I know the coordinates, but the thing is, they are contrary to the laws of the universe. This place shouldn’t exist, except, well, it does, and so-” The Doctor quickly cut off at the boy’s – Adam’s – blank expression. “No. I don’t know.”

“This is the Cage.” Adam’s cracking voice held a tone of distrust. “But, if you didn’t know where this was, how did you get in? It’s supposed to be sealed.”

The Doctor nodded slowly. “Ok. The Cage. And what’s the Cage, again?”

Adam eyed him as if he was crazy. “When Lucifer rebelled, God created a cage, to hold him. That’s this.” The Doctor snorted, and Adam glared at him – for someone who looked like they were going to faint at any moment, his glare was surprisingly forceful. “You asked me a question and I answered it. You don’t have to believe me, but it’s the truth.”

The Doctor held his hands up in surrender. “Ok, ok. But if this Cage was built to contain Lucifer, why are you here?”

Adam’s lowered his gaze. “The apocalypse. Michael and Lucifer were supposed to fight it out, but the Earth would have been destroyed. My half-brothers, they’re Michael and Lucifer’s true vessels – angels don’t have physical bodies, they need humans for that – but Dean managed to get away. Michael didn’t have a vessel, so he used me instead. And when Michael and Lucifer fell, so did me and Sam. Sam got rescued. I didn’t.”

The Doctor stared at him, lost for words. So many questions were running through his head, and eventually he just settled for, “How long have you been down here?”

Adam shrugged. “I don’t know. Time’s different down here. I’ve been down here for about eight hundred years, but I don’t know how long it’s actually been.”

“Eight - eight hundred years? That’s impossible. You’re human. You’d be dead.”

At this, Adam’s mouth quirked into a smile, but it did little to reassure the Doctor; the expression was wry and humourless, not meeting his eyes. “That’s what makes the Cage so special – it’s impossible to escape, not even by dying. Every time I came close, I just repaired.” He laughed bitterly, eyes brimming with tears.

As Adam’s tears began to fall, the Doctor didn’t hesitate to bend down and wrap his arms around the boy. Whether or not the boy was lying, or crazy, or simply misled, he was still crying, and the Doctor’s heart hurt as he felt the boy shaking against him, clutching at him as if at a lifeline. The Doctor wasn’t going to take that away from him.

Eventually, Adam slumped into his arms, and when the Doctor checked, he found that the boy, unable to take the stress, had passed out. Unconscious, he looked even younger than he was, and the Doctor, despite barely knowing him, realised how much the pain that the boy was clearly feeling had aged him.

And, deliberately not thinking of any potential consequences, he scooped the boy up, carefully carrying him towards the TARDIS. 

***

As he laid the unconscious boy on a soft bed, the Doctor frowned, wondering what exactly he’d gotten into. To say that Adam’s story was a strange one would be an understatement. Of course, he could have been lying, but the Doctor doubted it. He was generally a pretty good judge of character, and Adam seemed genuine. Then again, there was always the chance that, although not the truth, Adam believed that what he was saying was. But again, the Doctor doubted it. Adam was hurting, and scared, but he didn’t seem unbalanced, and even if he had been lying, there was still the matter of where he’d been found. It wasn’t a pocket universe – it was an area of space that shouldn’t possibly exist, and yet did; was it possible that it had been created by a supernatural element?

He turned to leave, but a soft murmur from the inert boy stopped him. “Don’t leave me. Please, Sam. Don’t go.” Adam was tossing lightly, his weakened state clearly dulling the intensity of his nightmare.

The Doctor moved back to the bed, lightly resting a hand on Adam’s forehead. The boy instantly quieted, calming slightly. The Doctor moved his hand and brushed a few strands of Adam’s hair away from his forehead. The kid was burning up, but the medicine that he’d given him should soon counter that; Nyssa had assured him that it was very effective when she’d given it to him, last time he’d gone to Terminus.

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, Adam’s temperature had dropped and he was sleeping soundly. The Doctor left the room, fading the lights to dim, and wondering just why he cared so much about the kid.

On his way back to the console, he once again heard Amy’s voice in his head.

_“If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind... You couldn’t just stand there and watch children cry.”_

And he smiled.


End file.
